


Caught Off Gaurd

by Dpanda_17



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien Agreste and Marinette Dupain-Cheng Hate Each Other, Adrinette | Adrien Agreste/Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Adults, Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Alya Césaire and Nino Lahiffe Ship It, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bad Parent Gabriel Agreste, Dead Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth, Depressed Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Engaged Alya Césaire/Nino Lahiffe, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Future Fic, Good Parents Sabine Cheng & Tom Dupain, Heartbroken Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Heartbroken Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Ladynoir | Adrien Agreste as Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng as Ladybug, Lila Rossi Is Hawk Moth, Marichat | Adrien Agreste as Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug Needs a Break, Minor Plagg/Tikki, Miraculous Ladybug Love Square, Plagg Is So Done (Miraculous Ladybug), Post-Relationship, Pre-Reveal Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Reunited and It Feels So Good, Sabine Cheng and Tom Dupain Ship It, Supportive Tikki (Miraculous Ladybug)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:41:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27157436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dpanda_17/pseuds/Dpanda_17
Summary: Adrien Agreste and Marinette Dupain-Cheng used to be inseparable ever since they are toddlers. The key-word is USED, as in past tense. Now the two won’t even look each other in the eye, let alone spend any time together. What happened that caused them to hate each other so much? And what’s going on with Ladybug and Chat Noir?Adult Au where they’ve been childhood friends and now they both work at Gabriel. Mostly LadyNoir and Adrinette and there might be a little MariChat
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Alya Césaire/Nino Lahiffe
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	1. For Health and Sanity

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! Before reading, I just wanted to start by saying that all character are adults (Marinette 25) (Adrien 26) and the timelines alter slightly from the cannon show. Adrien and Marinette met as children so no umbrella scene (I know, I’m sad too) and Chat Noir/Adrien never had a crush on Ladybug. Also the paragraphs that are italicized are memories, so I hope that helps save anyone from confusion! Also if you see any typos or anything let me know (I’ve been using Grammarly but there could still be some mistakes). This will be updated irregularly but I’m hoping for atleast one part per week :) Please enjoy my Miraculous Fanfiction!
> 
> I do not own any of the charcters, they belong to Jeremy Zag and Thomas Astruc. I just own the storyline :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “No one can hate you with more intensity than someone who used to love you.”
> 
> -Rick Riordan

_“Marinette! What happened to you?” he bent down to her, examining the large gash on her knee. Marinette, with tears in her eyes, looked up to Adrien. She smiled a weak smile as he sat down next to her._

_“I-I fell off my bike,” she gestured over her pink bicycle with training wheels to explain. Tears flooded her eyes in pain, and she buried her face in her hands._

_“Hey! Don’t cry, Mari. Come on, let’s go to your Mom!” Marinette nodded as she rubbed her eyes. He stood up, grabbing his hand and helping her up. She winced as she walked up, and examined the blood running down her leg. The sight of it made her want to cry, but she tried to hold it in._

_“Oh no, you can’t walk! Let me bring her to you,” His tone carried a sense of worry or fear, like something worse than a scrape on her knee. Panicking, he rushed to the park bench, coming back with Sabine in a matter of two minutes. Practically holding breath as she tended to her daughter, Adrien hoped Marinette would ever be able to run again. In his defense, he was six years old, and the only times he ever left the luxurious Agreste Manor was when he hung out with Marinette._

_After a few minutes, Sabine finished applying the bandages to Marinette’s scraped up knee and cleaned up the blood. Marinette could stand, but it still hurt too much for her to walk fast or run. So, disregarding his desire to practice skateboarding, he sat down next to his best friend and placed a flower through her hair and behind her ear. She giggled, snuggling close to him as they sat and played with Adrien’s superhero action figures. “You’re the best, Adrien,” Marinette said, sporting her child-like toothy grin. “That’s true,” Adrien smirked, and both of them burst into a fit of laughter. If only every day could be spent with them laughing their heads off, with no worries about the things that would consume their mental state later in life.  
_

_“Hey, Marinette,”_

_“Uh-huh?”_

_“Promise me we’ll be friends forever and never, ever hate each other,”_

_Marinette held her pinkie finger out, an assured and determined smile on her face. He loved that smile more than anything in the whole world. He loved her more than anything in the whole world. Extending his pinkie finger out as well, they intertwined, creating a pact that could never be broken._

_“Adrien, I want you to know something.”_

_“What?”_

_“I could never hate you.”_

***

Marinette groaned, pushing the bunches of fabric, pins, and needles away from her. She rubbed her eyes, pulling her long hair up into a messy ponytail to get it out of her face. She was both mentally and physically drained, famished, and in dire need of a break, but, unfortunately, denied herself one. Most of her days consisted of endless work hours, only to return home late at night and do it all over again the next day. It was a good thing that she still lived with her parents because otherwise, she wouldn’t even be getting proper food. 

She backed away from the dress form, examining her creation with intricate focus, before falling back onto her chair, content with the progression of the ensemble. She was a hair away from passing out, she was that tired. The dark circles underneath her eyes were becoming more and more prominent, but there was nothing she could do about her messed-up sleep schedule. Fashion week was coming up, and it wasn’t any good that she was head of the Women’s Formalwear department. Marinette had worked for so many hours she couldn’t think straight. 

She straightened her pink collared shirt, making sure it was still tucked into her black skirt perfectly and professionally before slipping on her black heels–she liked working without her shoes on–and heading out the door. She walked through the hallways, occasionally forcing out a smile to her colleagues who were either bright-eyed and bushy-tailed or on the verge of collapsing like she was. Although, despite her current condition, Marinette loved her job. She was only as overworked as she currently was whenever there was something huge going on concerning _Gabriel_ , but normally she had a 9-5 workday like everyone else. 

She walked into the break room, where, much to her dismay, she bumped into the person she wanted to see the least.

“Monsieur Agreste,” she huffed, her voice full of disgust and hatred, irrespective of his position as her boss. She glanced over at him, examining his eyes that signaled that he was equally as tired as she was, a line of stubble unshaved the bottom of his face. His blond hair was messed up and his clothes were creased. Most of the time when Marinette ran into him, he looked rather put together–that was obvious that he did, he was the CEO of freaking _Gabriel_ for goodness sake–but today he just looked drowsy and maladjusted. It would be a lie to say Marinette felt even a little pity for him, even though she knew his workload was most likely double of hers. 

“Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng,” he responded, equally annoyed and irritated toward her. He grabbed his coffee in haste and left, and that was where their “pleasant” conversation ended. As per usual, the exchange was both passive-aggressive in tone and included an abrupt ending. It was safe to say that Marinette wasn’t on good terms with Adrien, the guy she had known since they were both toddlers. And it didn’t help that she had to put up with him every day at work.

Okay, maybe she loved her job a little less. 

She made herself coffee as well–extra strong with a little whipped cream on top for the added sugar boost– and speed-walked out of the break room after grabbing a few cookies for Tikki. She was losing daylight, and she promised her parents, Alya and Nino that she would be back by 6:30 pm in time for game night. Once Marinette was back in her private office–perks of being in charge of her own department–she resumed her work, all her focus poured into the finishing touches of her dress. 

“Marinette, did you grab cookies for me during your trip to the break room?” Tikki squeaked and flew over to the napkin holding three chocolate-chip cookies after Marinette’s gesture to it. Tikki understood her owner’s workflow at this point. Marinette wouldn’t talk until she arrived at her desired stopping point, and she éwould only half-listen when someone talked. She would occasionally sing or mumble to herself, but that was very rare during her fashion week grind. 

The sun was on the verge of setting, the steady hum of the sewing machine filling the room. Tikki was watching YouTube from Marinette’s phone but was kind enough to keep the volume low to not distract her owner. Marinette preferred not to listen to music while creating ensembles for fashion weeks, as she couldn’t afford anything or anyone distracting her. 

She stuffed her belongings in her purse, swearing that she would clean up the mess the following day. It was her preference to visit work over the weekends, but it was needed. And she was too tired and dead set on finishing the ensemble. Of course, she had her own team, but they had their parts of each outfit to administer, and finally, the five most crucial, show-stopping, end all be all dresses fell on her shoulders. 

“Tikki, what do you think?” She spoke to the little red kwami, her eyes filled with hope that someone would like it. 

“Marinette, it’s beautiful. Everything you make is absolutely stunning!” 

“Thank you, Tikki, but this is fashion week. THE MILAN FASHION WEEK! If I 

mess up, I could get fired!”

“This is the most ambitious dress you’ve ever created, and one could see all the blood, sweat, and tears you’ve put into it! If you want another opinion, you can show it to the head of womenswear or Adri–”

“Don’t say it, Tikki.”

“He’s your boss. You’re eventually gonna have to get the designs cleared by him.”

“You’re saying Adrien because you want an excuse for me to go talk to him. Ugh, you’re just like everybody else! Alya and Nino are still, after five years, hung up on the possibility that we are meant to be! My parents keep telling me to at least shoot him a text or whatever, and none of them are fine with the fact that I don’t want Adrien involved in my life in that way anymore! To me, he’s not Adrien Agreste, the guy I’ve known for literally ever, anymore. He’s Adrien Agreste, CEO of _Gabriel_ /my freaking boss!” Marinette practically yelled, her voice coated with anger and annoyance. 

Tikki’s face grew solemn, her lip quivering in shock at what her miraculous holder had just said. Was she really pushing all those years of good memories away? Was she really disregarding the times she was happiest? Tikki, even though no one else knew about her existence, was by her side ever since Marinette received her miraculous at age 14. She was there for all of it, and it was hurting her that Marinette was throwing all of it away after one incident that happened three years prior. 

Marinette took in a breath, processing that she was yelling. “I’m sorry Tikki, I’m just a little annoyed. I shouldn’t have yelled.”

“You shouldn’t have, but it's okay, I understand.” She didn’t understand. Why was Marinette pretending the guy she used to love most didn’t exist as more than her work acquaintance?

***

“Hey, honey,” The cheery voice of her mother greeted Marinette as she walked into the bakery, the scent of fresh cinnamon and the warmth from the ovens warming her.

“Hi, Maman. It’s getting colder outside,” she chuckled, taking off her coat and folding it in her arms. “I probably shouldn’t have worn a skirt.”

“What did you expect? It’s the beginning of November and we live in France, dear.”

“I’m just too tired to think straight!” 

“That’s why I called you home. You need a break, Marinette, and what better way to do it than family game night? Well, plus Alya and Nino’s families.” Sabine put down the knife she was using to cut fruits and stared at Marinette with a worried look only a mother could muster up. “I know you don’t want to hear this…”

Marinette raised an eyebrow. She could tell what her mother was leading her by the familiar tone. “Is it about him?” 

Sabine sighed, her expression looking defeated. “I’m sorry honey, but it’s a few days until the second anniversary of his father’s death, and with the stress of fashion week… Please, just text him once and send your condolences. Please Marinette, you two may hate each other now, but there was a time where a second wouldn’t go by without you thinking of him. At least consider it, darling.” 

The pleading tone in her voice was evident, a tone that made Marinette feel the slightest bit of sympathy for her ex-best friend, even though she was still reluctant to reach out to him. She nodded, still debating over it, before running up to her room and taking a shower. 

When she walked in, the lukewarm water made her feel instantly awake, and not like she was on the verge of falling asleep as she had been all day. She washed her hair, taking her time because she had an hour and a half before the guests would start arriving and that was more than enough time. Despite her hair growing much longer than her high school days–now reaching a little above her waist– she learned how to be pretty quick with much more difficult tasks, so cleansing her much-elongated hair was a breeze. Marinette jumped out of the shower a few minutes later, dried her tangled raven-colored tresses, and put on a new set of clothes with thirty minutes to spare.

There were board games stacked on the table, a small amount of food that would be added to the potluck contributed to by all three of their families, and music playing. Marinette slumped onto the couch, feeling more relaxed than she had in a long time. This was exactly what she needed. No Adrien, no pins, needles, or dresses, no stress, and no worrying. All she had to worry about was dominating in Mecha Strike III. 

Alya and Nino arrived after a few minutes, Alya immediately running over to her best friend. 

“Girl, guess what happened?” She cheered, the adrenaline in her voice prominent. Marinette’s eyes darted over to Nino, who was sitting in the armchair with a smirk on his face. 

“What?” 

She held out her hand, sporting a grin that stretched from ear to ear and an engagement ring on her finger. Marinette squealed with Alya, but then looked over at Nino again. 

“How the hell did you manage to propose without passing out?” she chuckled. 

“Honestly Marinette, I don’t know,” he laughed back, as Marinette and Alya began to discuss everything that happened. A smile never left Marinette’s face, something that hadn’t happened for a long time. 

Much to Marinette’s pleasure, the wedding would be held much after fashion week, leaving Marinette’s schedule open enough to design her best friend a dress. Although she was plagued with excitement, the frightening thought that she would completely screw it up was creeping in the back of her mind. Marinette waved it off, not willing to cram her mind with extra stress. 

_No worrying, Marinette._ She dispersed diverging thoughts and focused on game night. After all, she’d be surrounded by friends and family playing, laughing, and enjoying themselves. _I need this._

Alya’s family and Nino’s family arrived a few minutes later, and family game night commenced. They had piles of board games, an absurd amount of food, and a few too many rage board-flips before the night ended. It was around midnight, a night full of relaxation and friendly competition was over, much to Marinette’s dismay. What wasn’t to her distress, however, was that Adrien Agreste’s name did not come up once. 

Later that night, Marinette was tucking herself into bed after everyone left to their own respective homes. Tikki had already fallen asleep well before the get-together. She threw her hair up into a messy bun and snuggled into her blanket. This evening was probably the highlight of her week, mostly because Marinette had eaten properly and put a pause on her intensive work schedule. And much to her satisfaction, Adrien Agreste’s name didn’t come up once. She looked outside through the window as she took a deep breath. Despite it being the weekend, she would most likely have to finish up her current ensemble. She didn’t care because she had only a few tweaks to complete, and the dress was done. The first dress out of five. There were only three months left until Milan Fashion Week, and the last dress took her three weeks to accomplish. 

That was probably why Marinette was tossing and turning in her bed and not sleeping like a normal human being.


	2. Take A Break, For God’s Sake!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To hate someone you used to love is such a painful feeling...

_ “Adrien? What are you doing here?” Marinette gasped, her eyes widened with fear. She pulled him into the bakery, dusting his clothes off and fixing his hair. “What happened?” _

_ “Mom passed out again. The doctors say she’s too weak and doesn’t have much longer. Dad sorta maybe got a little angry.” _

_ “A little?” Marinette raised an eyebrow, worry clouding her senses.  _

_ “Okay, a lot. He started throwing stuff and smashing things. Nathalie is trying to calm him down, and I didn’t know what else to do, Marinette. So I came here. You’re practically family.” Tears welled up in his eyes. His knees wobbled and he almost lost his balance, only to fall into Marinette’s arms. She started crying as well, finding it unbearable to see her friend in such a state.  _

_ “So you just ran away from home? This late at night?” She looked over at his backpack and skateboard laying on the ground. More tears filled up her eyes as it stained Adrien’s jacket. He nodded, clutching onto her tighter.  _

_ “You can stay here as long as you want. Okay?”  _

_ “Okay.” He sniffled, unable to say more words. She grabbed his hand and his belongings, explaining the predicament to her parents and then taking him up to her room. Adrien didn’t talk. He just stared into oblivion, unable to process everything.  _

_ “Hey, do you want food?” Marinette asked as they got ready to go to sleep. Adrien was already in her bed, snuggling her cat stuffed animals. He looked out the window, not paying attention to Marinette’s question. She didn’t mind, dealing with a parent on the verge of death was something he didn’t deserve, especially because he was only ten-years-old and the purest soul in the world. “Maman made croissants. Your favorite?”  _

_ He still didn’t respond.  _

_ She gave up trying to talk to him. Of course, he was in shock, in pain, and he was scared. He was scared of everything that was happening to him. He was scared of a life without his mother. And it didn’t help that his father had gone mad.  _

_ He turned around, startled by Marinette laying down next to him, clutching onto his hand. He smiled, happy that he could rely on her amidst his family drama.  _

_ He gave her a hug, feeling safe in her arms, a feeling he had only ever felt in the arms of his mother.  _

_ “Marinette?” _

_ “Yes?”  _

_ “Thank you.” _

_ “For what?”  _

_ “For everything you’ve given me these past four years.” _

_ “It’s no problem, really. It was my pleasure-” Marinette waved it off, not paying attention to the love flooding his voice.  _

_ “No, it’s a huge deal. You’re there for me no matter what!” _

_ She smiled her smile that never failed to light up Adrien’s life full of sunshine and color. After a few minutes, they fell asleep, safe, comfortable, and happy in each other’s arms.  _

***

Although Adrien Agreste was an avid pun-enthusiast, his sarcastic state was currently replaced with a tired shell of himself. He sat in his office, his eyes drooping, his shoulders sagging, his face unshaven, and his hair uncombed. He took another sip of his coffee in a desperate attempt to do anything to keep himself awake, even for a few moments. With his jammed schedule, there was, unfortunately, no time for his cheesy jokes. 

“Adrien, you look like a drug addict,” a voice from the ever so familiar kwami of destruction was heard, only making Adrien want to slap the little black being. 

“Plagg, give me a break, I haven’t slept in a week.” 

“Boo-hoo, you’re a CEO now, aren’t you supposed to be your own boss?”

“Unfortunately, father dearest is still managing to control my life from beyond the grave. I mean, sure, it was my choice to get a business degree, but really? In charge of his company?”

“Yeah man, you have no fashion sense, how would you run a fashion company?” Plagg snickered, to which Adrien rolled his eyes in irritation. 

“At least I don’t have romantic love for freaking cheese,” Adrien countered, pushing his hair out of his face. This, fortunately, left the kwami quiet, unable to say another word as he was already nibbling on the aforementioned cheese.

An hour or two later, they left the office and headed home, Adrien with the intention of working a little more while he ordered dinner in. He lived in a luxurious penthouse in the heart of Paris–one that Alya, Nino, and Chloé urged him to live in because of his CEO ranking–which was quite large and lonely despite it being much smaller than most penthouses. Adrien walked into his bedroom, on the verge of collapsing onto his bed after a long, hard day of work, but picked himself up again and resumed his work. 

Unfortunately, he was disturbed for the second time that evening. And this time, it wasn’t Plagg. 

“Goddamnit, can’t anyone let me work these days?” he swore under his breath as he walked to the door, responding to the doorbell that summoned him in the first place. He opened the hardwood door to find Chloé Bourgeois, one of his friends from his high school days. Despite his enormous fight with Marinette, he still remained in touch with her, Alya and Nino.

“Chloé, I was working,” he uttered, irritation rising in his voice. 

“Exactly, that’s why I came.” She walked in, taking a seat on the couch and setting her bag down on the coffee table. If one would compare her now versus her high school days, no one would be able to tell the difference aside from the obvious difference in age. Her hair was loosely curled and hung around her shoulders, her mustard yellow blazer matched nicely with the white blouse underneath. She wore black jeans and white heels, gold jewelry to finish off her look. By looking at her, it was easy to tell she was in a profession that made her a lot of cash, which proved true as she was a lawyer. When Adrien found out about her interest in law, he had found it to be a perfect match considering her bossy and uptight nature. 

“You need a break, sweetheart,” she continued, gesturing to Adrien to come to sit with her. “So I arranged a dinner at the new restaurant for the two of us.” She looked up, eyeing her friend’s appearance in utter disgust. “You look dreadful, but I’m glad you took my advice on that haircut. That works on you.”

Adrien was having a hard time deciding whether to be gracious or offended. “I can’t go, I have too much to do.” 

“I didn't ask. You’re going, it’s only for your mental health. It's not like I’m asking you to get drunk or something.” She rolled her eyes while she said that. Adrien could’ve sworn he only saw the white of her eyes for a few seconds. “I would’ve asked Alya and Nino to come, but they’re with Marinette.”

Adrien was too preoccupied to care about anything else. On the other hand, he did had too much to do and not enough time to do it and knew she was right. Days of non-stop working couldn’t be healthy for anyone, and it was taking a mental and physical toll on him. That was why he gave up protesting against it, slipped into the bathroom, showered and shaved, and put on some “nice clothes”. 

Truth be told, he felt good. Great, even. And getting out of the house not to go to his office building or the grocery store felt even better. They slipped into Chloé’s car and progressed to the restaurant that she mentioned earlier. They made small talk, but nothing too big as Adrien was barely able to keep his eyes open.

“So Mr. Paris’s Most Eligible Bachelor, you awake or not?” Chloé shouted at him, starting him and stopping him from dozing off. He rolled his eyes at her remark, knowing that he hadn’t been publically called that since he quit modeling when he was nineteen. Unfortunately, that didn’t stop girls from chasing after him. Fortunately for himself, he, rather Chat Noir, had his own special someone. Adrien nodded, and they continued their random talks until they arrived at the restaurant. 

They ordered their food and it arrived not much long after. Chloé chuckled as she watched Adrien gulp down his meal with great speed, obviously not just tired but also starved. He hadn’t eaten a proper dish in days, and the feeling, albeit rather foreign, was welcomed. He never learned to cook because he always had the convenience of several chefs at his disposal, but he would always favor Sabine Cheng’s cooking. He didn’t care if he and Marinette were on bad terms, he just wanted to taste some famous Dupain-Cheng chocolate croissants and quiche. 

After dinner and dessert, they decided to sit over at Le Seine. It was mostly a ploy planned by Chloé to not get Adrien to go home and resume working, despite their two-hour dinner and it being 8:30 in the evening. Several yawns escaped Adrien’s mouth, and it was evident that he was depriving himself of everything so that he could get his work done. 

“Adrien. Why are you really pushing yourself into work? I know it’s not just because there’s a lot of it,” she prompted, concern showing in her brilliant blue eyes. He was staring up at the full moon, basking in its light. It reflected in the midnight waters of the river, its parallel warped but shining just as bright. 

“I don’t actually know. I guess it’s just that keeping me busy is distracting me, I guess.” 

“What do you need to be distracted from?” 

He took in a deep breath. “Life, Chloé.”

“Why? You have me, Alya, Nino, Nathalie, and this secret girlfriend you won’t tell me anything about. You have your job, your home.” 

“But I don’t have a family aside from you guys.” His face was solemn, his voice nonchalant. “Ever since Ma-you know who-and I got in that fight, and then my dad died, I don’t know, I’ve stopped talking to people. Yeah, I talk to you and Nino and my girlfriend especially, but I just haven’t in the same way. 

My life is getting kinda boring, and plus, there's the pressure of having to live up to father’s legacy. So it’s pressure? Stress? I don’t know. I just can’t afford failure, I can’t afford any of the few relationships I have left to go away. That’s all.“ 

Chloé was flabbergasted. This was the first time he told her his feelings, especially since all his sharing used to be with Marinette. “Maybe, you can hold onto your relationships by spending quality time aside from talking to us in haste.” 

“I don’t have time, specifically fashion week stuff-” 

“If you can make out one night to have dinner with me, you can make out another one to hang out with me, Nino, and Alya. We’ll arrange the dates, you just tell us when you're free and show up afterward.” 

Adrien looked up at the smirk on Chloé’s face. It was obvious she wanted the best for him, but her bossy nature was shining through. “You’re not going to let me demur, are you.” 

“Not a chance.” 

“Alright, then.” 

For the first time in a long time, Adrien Agreste put down his work, ate a decent meal, and went to sleep. He felt peaceful and happy with what he still had. If only he knew what was coming. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heh this chapter is a little shorter and could be a lot better but I was feeling really unmotivated while writing it. Idk maybe it’s just becuase none of the action starts yet??? I personally hate writing introduction so the plot is starting to unravel in the next chapter!  
> Also I hope you all like how Chloé is in this fanfic and are interested in the story. My poor sunshine boi is so tireddd.  
> Same here tho 😎  
> Next chapter coming soon! Thanks for reading!


	3. New Beginnings and Moving On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Whatever you do, don’t run back to what hurt you.” 
> 
> -Frank Ocean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! I finally got another chapter up! My school just let us off for Winter Break a fee days ago, and I started writing as soon as I finished my last class of the day! Finals were a success and I’m currently writing the next chapter right now! 
> 
> Also, thank you for all the love on my one-shot “Project: Christmas Cookies Is A Go!” It really made my day to look at all your nice comments and there may or may not be a sequel in the works ;)

_ “Why did you have to do this to me?” Lila muttered, refusing to look at the man standing right behind her. The love of her life, the person she wanted to spend the rest of her life with, just ripped her heart out of her chest and tore it to shreds.  _

_ He stood, arms crossed and back to her. “Because you’re a pathological liar and a straight-up psycho! Why would anyone want to spend a life with someone like you?”  _

_ “You wanted to until whenever you started dating that other man.” She glared at him for a split-second. “Since when are you into guys?”  _

_ “That’s not the point, and they’re not a man.” He sighed, continuing to pack his belongings into the suitcase that sat on their bed. Well, just Lila’s bed now. “And proposing to you was the worst decision I ever made.”  _

_ “You said you were in love–”  _

_ “I said what I said, Lila. But I’ve found love somewhere else! I can’t marry you, I don’t know why I wanted to in the first place.” He closed his final suitcase, angrily walking toward the door. “And he’s more of a partner than you’ll ever be.”  _

_ Storming out of the apartment, Lila knew when he was gone due to the loud slam of the wood. She let her façade down, tears spilling down her cheeks in a matter of moments. Burying her head into a pillow, she cried. Not about losing the only person she had ever truly loved, she was miserable due to the manner he had betrayed her. Why couldn’t he just end the relationship cleanly? Without the stress of cheating?  _

_ She looked around the bedroom, which looked noticeably bare. All his belongings were gone, even his pillow he rested his head on every night. His reading glasses that rested on the nightstand were nowhere to be found, the photos of him and her together vanished into oblivion. The only proof that he was over there was the teddy bear that rested on the bed. The one he gave her on their first date.  _

_ She grabbed it, taking a pair of scissors and tearing it up to shreds, tears flooding her vision as her disgust toward him pooled out. Stuffing fell around her, landing on the bed and ground as she continued the rip it up, leaving tainted memories and a broken heart. Her hair splattered onto her pillow as it soaked her tears.  _

_ Four years of memories, a lifetime ahead of them, gone in an instant.  _

***

Beer bottles smashed against the ground, curtains closed, bed unmade, and dishes piling up in the sink. Lila was used to the mess. She sat on the couch, fishing through a pile of magazines and disposable plates to find the remote. Shifting through channels for hours had become a commonplace routine. As did sleeping for the majority of the day and not caring about her appearance and wellbeing. No one checked up on her, no one bothered to visit, she had no job, no family, no friends, no boyfriend… frankly, there was no point.

Receiving the news of her parents’ death was only the first of many bullets she struggled to dodge. A few weeks later came to the devasting breakup, and a week after that she was laid off of her job at a modeling agency. The once elegant, put-together, and excruciatingly gorgeous Lila Rossi now became a grotesque, unemployed, good-for-nothing sluggard.

Finding the motivation to do anything other than sleep and eat was hard, her once bustling, cultivated life is torn to shreds and nothing but a mere memory. Days of her getting her hair styled, photos clicked, and dressing up in the fanciest gowns were long gone. Part of her wanted to return to that society, but most of her heartbroken, washed-up self didn’t know how to do so.

It was a normal day. It started with her getting up at ten in the morning, pigging out whatever food her olive-colored eyes glanced at first. Then she crawled back into bed, scrolling through her phone for hours after. Most days, looking through her social media only diminished her motivation to start her life anew. Watching her follower count steadily deteriorate, and all of her ex-colleagues move along in life faster than her. She even scrolled past her ex-boyfriend’s page a few times, all the photos of him and his new husband breaking her heart into pieces. He was smiling as if she was never in his life. Most of the time, looking at him wanted her to burst into tears or throw her phone across the room.

Then she went to eat lunch. It was either takeout or leftovers, and that day’s meal was a day-old hamburger. She ate, staring out the window at the world she hadn’t thrived in for weeks. The cars, the buildings, the sun setting over the horizon… 

Her life used to be full of glamour, elegance. Hair, makeup, and wardrobe in the morning, shooting in the afternoon, then–if there were any– she’d attend an event, party, or even fashion show. She was all set to be the frontline at Milan Fashion Week in a brand new, mint-condition designer gown. Guess that wasn’t happening anymore. 

Her to-die-for beauty also became something wretched and horrid during her isolation from the rest of the world. Her once unblemished face, full lips, and long flowing hair were all in terrible condition. Lila’s motivation to get back up on her feet deteriorated. 

All of the self-destructing thoughts were ones Lila thought on the daily. Her not doing anything except sit idle was the norm. What wasn’t, however, was the knock on the door. The only person who had seen her in the last month was her landlord. 

She fluffed her hair and hurriedly changed into a clean bralette over her stained pajama bottoms to save the sliver of dignity she had left. She opened the door, even more, shocked by who was standing there in front of her. 

“Nathalie?” She sputtered out, unable to fathom why the person she least expected to see was staring at her. Part of her hoped it would be her ex, but that was entirely impossible. 

“Mademoiselle Rossi,” She said, disgustedly staring at the state of the apartment as she walked in. 

“Why are you here?” Lila didn’t even try to be polite. 

“Monsieur Agreste had a wish… of sorts.” Nathalie moved aside the pile of takeout boxes as she uncomfortably sat herself down on the armchair. 

Lila’s eyes widened. “Adrien? He’s made it pretty clear he wants nothing to do with–” 

“Gabriel.” 

Lila’s jaw practically dropped. “You mean the one who has been dead for two years? If he had something he wanted to say to me, he would’ve asked me of it before he died!” 

“I didn’t think it was the right time.” Nathalie looked around and tried her best to hold in her utter revulsion. “It was… a hefty task to all pile up on you. And I believe that this will help you get back up on your feet.” 

“What is it.” 

Nathalie held out her hand as she exhaled. It seemed as though the weight of the world rested on her shoulders from this one simple promise. The brooch in her hand glimmered despite being locked away for two years. It was one that every person could recognize without any hesitation. 

The butterfly was miraculous.

Hawkmoth’s miraculous. 

“No, there is no way he wanted me to have this.” Lila shook her head, pushing Nathalie’s hand away. “Why me?” 

“It was his dying wish. You were a significant accomplice to him back during your days in lyceé. An excellent liar, cunning, spiteful, deceitful. He believed you were the best choice.” 

“I seriously can’t take this. It’s too much.” 

“Don’t you want to get revenge on Marinette Dupain-Cheng? The girl who ruined your life? Your ex-boyfriend, who betrayed you? Your best friend, who left you? Your boss, who fired you?” One thing was for sure, this woman's convincing and comforting tone of voice was only fit for Mayura

Lila stared at the ground. “How do you know all this?” 

“Mlle Rossi, Mayura knows all.” 

The memories hit Lila’s mind all at once. The way Marinette unveiled her charade to all their classmates, making her the most hated person in the entire school. How her best friend didn’t even bother to show up after the breakup or during her parent’s funeral. About how her boyfriend left her in the worst way possible. Her blood started to boil. Without thinking about anything else, Lila snatched the miraculous from Nathalie’s hand and put it onto her shirt. The magic surged through her veins as a little purple being circled her, seemingly coming out of the brooch. 

“And, Lila?” Nathalie continued, still with a straight face. “We are running short on models at ‘Gabriel’, which Adrien is rebranding into ‘Agreste’. I understand you’ve, as of recently, been unemployed.” 

“I couldn’t take the job, Adrien would never let me get through the interview.” 

“Honestly, at this point, he’s so tired and desperate you won’t even have to interview. You’re hired, if you choose to accept this proposal.” 

Oof, proposal. Bad choice of words. 

Lila thought for a second. This was her chance, her chance to get back in the spotlight. And for Milan Fashion Week, no less! “I’ll take it.” 

“Good. See you Monday, at 5 am sharp.” Nathalie scanned Lila for a second more. “We’re going to need all that time to fix–” she pointed to Lila’s hair, which was so long it reached her thigh and so neglected it looked like a pile of straw sprouting from her head. “–that.” 

Lila nodded, finally noticing what a pigsty her apartment and appearance had become. She watched as Nathalie gathered her belongings and headed out the door. They exchanged their good-byes and see you Mondays before the woman walked out the door. 

Nathalie giving her this job offer was like a gift sent straight from the angels themselves. The miraculous was a sign that it was time she got her life back together. She looked at the purple being sitting on her counter, looking down at the marble countertops with the saddest look on its face. 

“Who are you?” She asked, maintaining a distance from it. 

“I’m Nooroo, your kwami,” it said. “You’ve been granted the power to control people with your magical akumas. All you need to do is say, ‘Nooroo, wings rise’.” The kwami shuddered at the memories of Gabriel Agreste his previous owner. All he wanted was to return to Plagg, Tikki, and all his other friends. Speaking of other friends, where was Duusu?

He scanned the area for any sign of the peacock miraculous. It had to be there, what would Nathalie do with only one miraculous if she didn’t plan on using it herself? There it was. Sitting on the coffee table. “Quick,” he stated, picking up the other miraculous and handing it to Lila. “Wear this too!” 

“Why? I already have you, don’t I?” Her words, albeit the most kind-hearted and genuine words used in movies, were anything but in this scenario. She rolled her eyes, still not wanting to touch her kwami. 

“Please! It’ll only give you more power!” He knew it would be a mistake to only grant her more of the miraculous’s magic, but he had no choice. Knowing Lila, she’ll only give him just as bad a time as Gabriel did, if not worse. But it wouldn’t be that bad with his friend. 

Lila smiled the telltale, power-hungry smile that every supervillain seemed to have. “Fine, I guess you aren’t totally useless.”

She took the pin and stuck that on her shirt as well, watching the blue peacock-like creature spring out of it.

“Woooo!” Duusu screamed. “Nooroo, we have a new owner! We can be together again!” 

“How do I use both of you at the same time?” Lila asked, impatiently crossing her arms. 

“Use one of us, then say Nooroo, Duusu, unify,” Nooroo explained sadly. It was a kwami’s job to obey their master’s every command. As much as he didn’t want to wreak havoc on Paris once again, he couldn’t refuse. 

“Alright then,” Lila snickered. “Now move out of the way. I have a shit ton of cleaning to do.” She sniffed her shirt, instantly gagging in disgust. “And a bath to take.” 

She immediately got to work, scrubbing, vacuuming, and throwing away ludicrously large amounts of trash. By the time she finished the living room, kitchen, dining room, and bedroom, five hours had passed, ten trash bags were filled to the top, and several sponges were used up. She was quite surprised that she was able to do so much in such a short amount of time, but the adrenaline coursing through her veins provided all the energy she needed. She loaded some more laundry into the washer and cleaned up her closet before jumping into the shower. 

An hour later, her shower was complete and she looked (and smelled) better than she had in days. She stared at her reflection whilst tending to her ingrown eyebrows. 

She looked at her hair. Memories of him complimenting her and running his hands through it flooded back into her mind, and, before she could think of what she was doing, tears were in her eyes and a pair of scissors were in her hands. Is this what moving on felt like? The constant stress and pain floating away as her hair fell to the ground? She felt free, finally away from his clutches. She smiled a weak smile. Her hair, while very sloppy from her terrible hair-cutting skills, reached right at her chin. It was the shortest it had ever been in years, and frankly, she quite liked it. 

So this was what moving on felt like. 

All evidence from him was erased from her apartment and his favorite thing about her gone as well. Lila couldn’t help but feel proud. She cleaned up all the hair off the floor, finally feeling like herself after so long. 

Maybe it was the few glasses of wine she sipped on during her cleaning spree or the burst of adrenaline coursing through her veins, but Lila couldn’t help but regain all her lost confidence. Maybe all the things that ultimately destroyed her over the last month weren’t her downfall. 

She gleamed over the butterfly miraculous she stuck on her purse another glance. Maybe this miraculous thing wasn’t such a bad idea after all either…

“NOOROO! DARK WINGS RISE!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed that chapter! Next chapter is coming soon (hopefully before the new year). Also, for Lila’s hair I was envisioning Hope Van Dyne’s hair from the first Antman movie, except Lila’s natural hair color. 
> 
> See you next time!


End file.
